


Reverence

by Madame Baroquedile (WhimsicalRealist)



Series: Strings Of Fate Set In Sandstone [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2196954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalRealist/pseuds/Madame%20Baroquedile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rainy day finds Crocodile giving an unexpected answer to a question Doflamingo has asked on more than one occasion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reverence

"Can I see what’s under your hook?"

  
The question had caught him off-guard the first time the younger man had asked it and of course he had refused. He refused time and again, sometimes more lividly than others, depending on the mood Doflamingo found him in.

  
But it was on a particularly dismal summer afternoon as he lounged on his couch and regarded the sound rain pelting the window with a scowl of distaste that Crocodile sighed and left the blond dumbfounded when he finally relented.

  
"Say again?" Mingo asked, peering down at the older man with brows raised.

"I said ‘ _go ahead_ ’, birdbrain," he grumbled sourly, eyes still closed. "Don’t make me repeat myself a second time or I’ll change my mind."

"Really?"

"If it gets you to stop your incessant pestering, _yes_."

  
Crouching down, Mingo regarded the other man with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism, but an eager grin spread across his face as he reached out for the golden hook currently resting over the older man’s chest. But before he could touch it, a hand took hold of his wrist and he looked up, finding tired golden eyes looking at him almost thoughtfully.

  
"But in return…"

"You wanna cut a deal? Sure, name your price, Croco-man."

"Show me your eyes."

"What, my eyes? You’ve seen my eyes."

"No I have not, and you know it."

"In all this time? It’s been how many years…almost thirty?"

"Yes, you brat, you never take those shitty glasses off and the last—and _only_ —time I tried, you almost broke my wrist."

"Oh, oh yeah,” Mingo chuckled with a shrug. “I remember that. Really put a cramp on the mood, didn’t it?”

 

Crocodile favored him with an entirely sour expression, leaving the blond to pout.

 

"C’mon, old man, why do you have to make it complicated?"

"It’s a fair trade," Croc countered, grinning slightly. "Offer going once."

"C’moooooon," the younger man practically whined. 

"Going twice…”

"Alright, alright!" Mingo blurted with a petulant frown. "We’ll trade."

"Sold," the raven-haired man chuckled, reaching out to carefully take hold of the sunglasses by the bridge.

  
While the blond did flinch, he otherwise did not lash out or retreat from the contact, allowing Crocodile to slowly tip the glasses downward to finally see his eyes.

"Doflamingo."

"Hm?"

"Open your eyes."

"Oh right, my mistake," Mingo muttered, reluctantly peeling them open.

  
When he did, Crocodile felt suddenly more awake, even going so far as sitting himself up to get a better look. They were an unique shade of aqua, but that alone would not have explained the obscuring sunglasses: no, it was the fact that they were clouded over. Brows knit together as realization settled in, gently guiding the glasses back in place: Doflamingo was blind.

  
"How long?" he finally asked after a minute of heavy silence.

"As long as we’ve known each other," Mingo offered with a shrug. "Satisfied?"

"Mm, and a bit impressed. No one would ever know."

"And no one  _else_  ever will,  _will_  they?”

"No, they won’t," Croc agreed, offering his hook over toward the younger man. "That knowledge belongs to me alone."

" _Good_ ," Mingo sighed, tracing his fingers over the polished surface of the weapon’s base, leaning in to gently kiss the curve of the hook.

  
Crocodile watched with a guarded expression as deft fingers explored the  seams of the hook, trailing them down to the cuff and slipped them into the gap. Carefully, he tugged and loosened it from the older man’s arm, pulling until it came off completely. It felt strange to have its presence missing, but even more unsettling to see the hook resting in the other man’s hands. Mingo, meanwhile, took a long moment to simply hold it, feeling its true weight for the first time. Turning away briefly, he set the hook gently on the coffee table behind him before returning to his true goal.

  
Fingers moving with surprising reverence, the young man took hold of the scarred stump that had once been his wrist, lifting it toward his face. Crocodile stilled as Mingo put his cheek against it and nuzzled gently.

  
"Satisfied?" he found himself echoing.

"Mmm," the blond agreed with a smile, turning his face to kiss the uneven skin softly. "Yes. It’s something I’ve always loved about you, Croco-man."

"My  _stump_?”

"No, the fact that you turned a weakness into a strength. You took the shitty card you were dealt and you played it flawlessly. That’s just how you are, you don’t lay down and accept things how they are if they don’t suit you."

"Neither do you," Crocodile pointed out.

"Yeah, I think that’s why we get along so well, fufufufu~"

 

With a shit-eating grin in place on the blond’s face, the older man rolled his eyes and lightly knocked him upside the head with his stump. Idiot brat.

**Author's Note:**

> A self-canon here for Mingo is that he is blind, using his strings much like spider to get a sense of his surroundings. Having done so for many years, he is able to move and behave in a way that no one would be aware that he couldn't, in fact, 'see'.


End file.
